The End of the Quest

I think everyone has had a meal that they consider memorable. Most, I’m sure remember the good one, while I on the other hand remember the bad. Years ago, not sure how many, Marge and I joined our friends on a trip to Amish Country in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. While there we did all the usual touristy things, one of which is driving through the beautiful, and peaceful countryside. The Sunday of this particular trip we headed out into the Amish farm country and headed toward Blue Ball, Pa, one of the many small towns with the strange and sometime suggestive names like, Blue Ball, Intercourse, Bird-in-Hand, and Paradise etc. Blue Ball being especially intriguing, became our destination. After enjoying the scenery for quite some time, we realized that we were all a little hungry so we began looking for a restaurant. This became a bit of a problem, weren’t many places to eat in good old Blue Ball Pa. Finally spotted a place and pulled in. I don’t think they were too happy to see us, no other customers, and the wait staff looked as though they wanted to close and go home. They did, however, seat us and took our orders. Marge and our friends ordered a turkey dinner while me, always the different one, ordered roasted chicken.

Well, let me tell you, this chicken must have spent the previous few weeks in the coop doing pushups, deep knee bends and running miles and miles on a chicken tread mill, because this was absolutely the toughest, rubbery chicken imaginable. I literally could not chew or break this meat down to a point of swallowing and for a man with my appetite; this had to be a first. Honestly, you coud not believe how tough this bird was. At the time, I was, needlessly disturbed (you think), but later we had many laughs about the “Rubber Chicken of Blue Balls”. It really has been a lot of fun talking about it over the years.
Our friends have been back to the area many times and tried to find that “Rubber Chicken Restaurant” again, but with no success.

Well, guess what? We were back in Amish land this past week and decided to give the quest another shot. During our quest we decided that perhaps it was not in Blue Ball after all, but in an adjoining town so we continued down the road to New Holland and lo and behold before our eyes stood the Peoples Restaurant (now we even had a name) alias the “Rubber Chicken Restaurant”. We even decided to have lunch there in honor of our memorable rubber chicken episode. None of the same excitement this time, there were new owners and no chickens exercising in the back yard. I even ordered chicken rice soup, with the hope of a new adventure, but no tough meat in this one. Although the one piece of meat the size of a dime was a little laughable, but pretty tender.

We’re all quite saddened that the quest is over, but I will still occasionally bore people with my rubber chicken escapade.

Here we go again

First of all, before I proceed with this Blog entry I need to apologize. When I decided to create a Blog Site I intended to come up with some real entertaining and stimulating stuff. In reviewing my previous entries I found that many dealt with the trials and tribulations of advancing age. In all honesty I do not need to be reminded, but I’m sorry to say that conversations amongst friends and acquaintances all revolve around the effects of advancing age. Are any of you experiencing the same thing?

As an example, yesterday I played in a golf tournament sponsored by the Calendar House which is the Senior Center in Southington, Connecticut. Here’s four guys out for a good time on the links. Know what we talked about? Frequency of nighttime urination, new procedures on enlarged prostates, how many times we get up during the night. How come so many of us are wide awake at 4:00 A.M. in the morning, shouldn’t we form some kind of early bird club. Strange how we slept like rocks till all hours a few years back and now we’re clicking away madly on our remotes to find something decent to watch at 4:00 besides infomercials.

You must agree that all of this is not even remotely exciting, but that’s not the worst of it. Never, and I mean never, ask any of these elderly gentlemen how they’re feeling, because by God you better be prepared to find out. I now know more about bypass surgery, high blood pressure, high sugar counts and enough other medical problems to create a little journal.

Then there’s the discussion about the diminished length of their tee shots. All the technology available today doesn’t appear to add the necessary yardage. I must say that hitting the ball from the senior tees does help a little. That’s one of the very few advantages of advancing age along with an occasional senior discount and getting away with some things that only seniors can get away with.

I will say that I did have a pleasant surprise this past weekend. Our High School Class of 1952 held a little class reunion pizza party. We had our 55^th a couple of years ago, but we decided that at our age we shouldn’t wait every five years. The surprise was that everyone was so much older looking than me…….lol. See how boring this stuff is.

Now you know why I apologized right at the start.

Well, let's away from the old stuff. Marge and I, along with our friends once again completed the Connecticut Wine Trail. We visited 19 of the possible 24 wineries on the trail. Now we wait to see if they pick our passports at the drawing for many trips including a couple to Spain. This was our third year doing it. Of course with what we spend on these winery trips it would be smarter for us to just pay for the trip.